Even Wizards Get The Blues
by RoughstringRider
Summary: "Don't Fear The Reaper" strikes again. My take on the challenge by Reptilia... Hope you like. The "M" is basically precautionary, there is and will be some profanity, violence, and steamy stuff.
1. Chapter 1

(Author's Note) Well everyone has tried it, and I've read a lot of them, liked most of them, and wondered what spin I could put on it, to make it different and interesting. That said, I offer for your perusal my take on Reptilia's "Don't Fear The Reaper" challenge. As usual, Harry dies a lot, gets sent up, meets his angel of death, gets told he has one chance left, don't blow it, so he can kill off Voldiesnorts, settle down with his soul mate, "some Granger girl", have a bunch of kids, and die at a ripe old age, nice and peaceful like. This first chapter is just an introduction to a key player, one many of you might not know, There should be a full-blown chapter of some size by this time next week. Also, I want to give author Tom Robbins credit for the blatant rip off of his book "Even Cowgirls Get The Blues" for the title of this work. It's a good book, I recommend it.

I'm using a historical (and legendary in the cowboy world- boys and girls are still named after him, almost 60 years after his last world championship) figure for his Angel of Death, and I'm hoping that between culture clashes, twists in the plot, some flat out AU, and general "where did THAT idea come from?"ness, you readers will find this to be a tale worth reading… Because it would suck if I ended up writing this just for myself. I have a couple tweaks I want to apply to the basic plotline, we'll see how well they go, and if anyone wants to review with accolades, huzzahs, or constructive criticism, I look forward to it. If you just want to be rude, well… it's your karma, do what you want to it.

Finally, as if this needed saying, I do not own Harry Potter, I am merely scratching in the catbox that is fanfiction, and hoping I don't leave a turd…

* * *

Early spring in the Badlands of South Dakota is generally unpleasant, at best. Snow will slice your skin to ribbons, it takes longer to melt up there, and when it does, it leaves behind a virtually intractable mud, dried out only by the cold north wind that comes howling out of Canada. Men, horses and cattle all try to seek any shelter they can from the fury of spring, because in South Dakota, March_ never_ comes in like a lamb.

So it was on March 5th, 1929, in a homesteader's log cabin 50 miles from town, when Florence Tibbs was giving birth to her son. Casey was born in a time and place where the weak fall prey to the elements or the strong, and nature does not concern itself with the desires of mere humans. Young Casey was birthed in a land where you endure or perish, yet he took a different path.

Casey Tibbs chose glory.

He had to ride one of the ranch horses to get to his one room school house 5 miles away, and from the beginning, his father put Casey atop whatever horse he caught first, training and temperament notwithstanding. Casey learned to either ride or walk, and before long, it didn't matter how much the horse he was on would try to throw him, Casey was riding to school. He developed a talent for riding them all, and before much more time had passed, Casey was not only riding the toughest horses in the Badlands, he was making it look effortless. By the time he was 15, Casey was riding bucking horses for a living, and at 19, he won the first of his six consecutive World Championships, records for youth and endurance that endure into the next century.

He was larger than life, in all he did. In a time when "conservative" was the standard for dress and lifestyle, Casey would arrive at the fairgrounds in his purple Cadillac convertible, ride the toughest horses they could find, and look like he was sitting in a rocking chair while he did it, then after the rodeo find himself in the local watering hole, where he played the raconteur to perfection; telling stories, playing pranks, and dealing with the local toughs who wanted to take the champ down a notch by staring them down as he ate the glass that his whiskey had come in. Nobody wanted to fight after that, strangely enough. He accomplished all that was available for his sport at the time, helped create more opportunities for cowboys that would come after him, then took his magazine cover good looks to Hollywood, where he spent the next 40 years in movies and television, while writing newspaper articles, and generally enjoying life as a legend. He lived to see a statue of himself on the legendary horse "Necktie" being unveiled in front the Professional Rodeo Cowboy's Hall of Fame,as always, larger than life, and when he passed away peacefully on January 28, 1990 at his home in California, Casey Tibbs was revered for being the greatest saddle bronc rider that ever lived, a man who had overcome the most humble and difficult of circumstances to achieve enduring greatness. His name was spoken amongst those in his world as one who would live on in memory forever, and as word spread of his passing, many glasses of whiskey were raised in his honor, with gratitude that he got that rarest of opportunities: To pass away peacefully… although he did have to wait until he got to the next great adventure to find out how that Super Bowl he was watching at the time turned out.

Casey made it to that next great adventure relatively peacefully, although he did have to tell those in charge that he would not be talking to anyone until the game was over (The Denver Broncos beat the Green Bay Packers in the last 2 minutes), and had it been anyone else, that might have been the end of the story. However, this was Casey Tibbs, who never did anything by halves, and though he didn't know it at the time, just three months earlier in a small English village, an infant boy had been orphaned into a world of harshness that only someone from the Badlands could understand. Neither he nor that orphaned infant knew it yet, but Casey Tibbs would ultimately have more work ahead of him, because simply changing his small part of the planet would not be enough.

Casey Tibbs, cowboy, innovator, screen idol, hero to generations, and soon-to-be-appointed Angel of Death, would one day have to help Harry Potter try to save the whole damned world.


	2. Chapter 2

(A.N.- See chapter one for disclaimers, explanations, etc., please. Don't own it, if I did, Harry would have gotten lucky, and Hermione wouldn't have lowered her standards.)

When Harry Potter opened one eye to see what had happened, he was completely unprepared for the visual input he received.

Harry's eyes had squeezed tightly shut in the Forbidden Forest as he stood before Lord Voldemort, offering himself up as the sacrifice needed to save Wizarding Britain from the reign of terror it was currently suffering through. As Harry heard the words _Avada Kedavra_, he faced his imminent demise reasonably secure that he was making Tom Riddle mortal, and therefore giving his friends and allies the opening they needed to rid the world of the latest in unspeakable evils. Harry's greatest hopes when he closed his eyes in the forest were that the world would soon be rid of Lord Voldermort thanks to his efforts, and that Hermione Granger wouldn't kill him when she joined him in the next great adventure.

He couldn't help but think she was going to be royally pissed off over him managing to get himself killed, and Harry was well aware that a century or two was not going to ease her annoyance over the matter.

Harry had half expected to open that eye and see himself still in the Forbidden Forest- He hadn't felt a thing after hearing that curse called forth, but he was after all, less than 10 feet away from the caster, so he was determined to rename Tom Riddle "Lord can't-curse-straight", if he was in fact alive. It was not to be, even a snake face can hit the broad side of a Harry Potter from that distance, it seemed. Still, that did not explain the view that greeted first one, then both openly gaping eyes of Harry.

We all have our ideas of what waits for us on the other side. Some imagine billowing clouds populated by those playing harps, some imagine fields of plenty, or a hall filled with warriors partying it up. Harry had spent some time thinking about the matter; he was after all, acutely aware of his mortality from a precociously early age, and he was reasonably certain that when he arrived where he was going, he would see his parents, and Sirius, and everyone else he had loved and lost. He had hoped that the location for this reunion would be someplace pleasant, perhaps a nice meadow somewhere, or a cozy sitting room with overstuffed furniture, where Harry could relax, stop worrying about the world he left behind, and spend eternity just making up for lost time. With these images in his mind, Harry had prepared himself for the end of his earthly days, and when he opened his eyes, these were the images he expected to greet him.

What Harry Potter had most certainly _not_ expected, was to open his eyes only to discover that he was sitting on a barstool in what was perhaps the most run down, dirtiest, cow-smellingest bar in the all the known universes. Harry Potter had not anticipated his eternity beginning in a smoky room with animal heads and (obviously previously worn) brassieres hanging from the clapboard walls and rough-hewn rafters. He had not expected to see black and white photographs of cowboys on bucking horses scattered amongst the lingerie and taxidermy, nor had he expected a television blaring over the noise of the jukebox, as it broadcast an American Football game. None of these things had been anticipated to the slightest degree by Harry Potter, and the utter surrealism of his situation was only punctuated by the slightly built cowboy with a large grey Stetson hat sliding a shot glass towards him with a devlish grin.

"Kid, I think after the day and life you just had, you could use a shot. Drink up."

Harry mutely nodded, and lifted the glass to his lips, only to slam it down a few moments later while attempting to get past the coughing fit. "What the bloody Hell WAS that?"

The cowboy kept grinning. "Canadian Rye Whiskey, straight out of the barrel, a little tougher than your wizard whiskey, but guaranteed to keep the cold off you. So. How ya feeling?"

Harry looked at this stranger in shock. "Ummm… other than the fact I think I'm dead, and I seem to have burned blisters on my throat, I'm quite well, thank you. And could you perhaps tell me where I am, and who you might be, and what caused me to be…" Harry looked around again in confusion "…here?"

The cowboy leaned against the bar, tipped his hat back as far as the laws of gravity would allow, and smiled, more gently this time.

"Well kid, afraid to have to tell you but you are, in fact, dead. On a lighter note, the throat will heal! And as to who I am and where you are, there lies a bit of a tale. How many times you think you died before today?"

Harry just stared for a moment. "None, I would think…"

"Afraid that would be incorrect Harry-you don't mind if I call you Harry, do you?" A shake of the head. "Good. Anyway, the right answer to that question is that you've come to your reward now 13 times. Gotta hand it to you, when I was looking over the file, you certainly seemed to know how to die with style for the most part, too! Oh, before I forget, I'm Casey, Casey Tibbs, and I would be your Angel of Death, and this" Here the cowboy looked around him proudly "would be my office. Welcome to the Last Chance Bar and Grill, Harry!" Casey then extended his hand to the young wizard, who took it and despite the situation gave him as firm and confident a handshake as he could muster.

"Mr. Tibbs-" "Just call me Casey, Harry. We're a little less formal by this point." "Very well. Casey… you said I've died 13 times before. What happened, and why wouldn't I know about this?"

"Well Harry, long story short, you have a habit of getting put in situations no reasonable person should have an expectation of living through, without some help. Fact of the matter is kid, that you've been getting set up for today since yer folks got killed, and everything that happened before was, from what I've read and seen, designed to either kill you or teach you to be ready to die, and the people who set it up just weren't too worried about which one happened. Still, I gotta hand it to you, that you took on the whole mermaid colony while you were drowning? Impressive stuff."

"See, Harry, the problem is this. You weren't supposed to end up dead today, or any of those other times, either. Fact is, according to the files, today was the day you were supposed to kill off Lord Chickenshit…" Harry had to interrupt at this.

"I'm sorry. Did you just call him… Lord Chickenshit?"

"Sure did. Anyone as scared of getting killed as this guy is just has to be full of chickenshit, and I don't care how tough he thinks he is, fact of the matter is if you let fear run your life, you are nothing more than a puss. Lord Chickenshit is therefore a puss, and I am not giving him the dignity of calling a puss anything other than a puss." Harry stared open mouthed. "What?"

"He's the most feared Dark Lord since Grindelwald! I suppose being an Angel you haven't ever had to face someone that evil, but still…" Harry jumped as the shot glass slammed down on the bar.

"Kid, I expected better from you. You're the one keeps going on about how a name is just a name and all that, but I got news for you. I was not always an Angel. Fact is, I used to be a muggle living in the States, and didn't die until you were a year and a half old. I got this job because I am the same way now as I was when I was alive. See those pictures?" Casey pointed to the wall.

"Everyone of those pictures is of me, and in a couple of those pictures I later found out that I died shortly thereafter, only to get sent back with a 'miraculous escape'. I never feared death, you've never feared death, we both have understood there's worse things than death, we've both lived through worse things than death, and I am not going to let some puss with a wand scare me now, especially since I AM dead!" Harry simply nodded, wide eyed.

"Now, back to the point. Today was the day you were supposed to finish off Lord Chickenshit, and you were supposed to end up with yer soul mates… some Granger girl I think, and… well. Anyway. After that, you'd have done your bit for the world, so you were supposed to kick back, do some public service stuff, raise a few kids and a little Hell, hang out with yer best friend- that Longbottom boy it was- and then come see yer regular Angel of Death in about another 140 years. Obviously, none of that has happened, and without some serious help, none of that is going to happen, and that, Harry, is why we are in my office today. Questions so far?"

Harry's brain had gone into virtual lockdown, and only question remained. "Hermione? And? Someone else? Soul Mates? Oh God, she's going to kill me!"

"Yes Hermione, I got the name of that other girl in here somewhere, won't matter, if we do this right, you'll get her, and no she's not going to kill you. At least I don't think so, but we should finding out right about-" Casey and Harry both jumped and turned towards the door of the bar that had just crashed open with excessive authority, to reveal a brown haired girl that appeared to be ready to enact Armageddon.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER, I AM GOING TO **KILL** YOU!"


	3. Chapter 3

A.N. Just a quick "Thanks!" to all the folks who are already following and reviewing this story. I'm not going to mention reviewers by name, but I will respond to one comment in general terms,

There are concerns about Soul Bonds in general, and the potentiality of there being more than one in this story, in particular. In the first instance, one of the reasons I specifically chose this challenge for my first piece of fanfiction here was the soul bond aspect. I believe that while some treatments of the bond in other stories do require a, shall we say "suspension of disbelief", the Soul Bond can be utilized in such a way as to illustrate the depths of a relationship while each individual maintains their own personalities. To my mind the Soul Bond is a very real thing, and can be seen in the world we know (everyone knows or knows of a couple where one partner died, and the other followed shortly thereafter with the only possible reason being a "broken heart".) Such couples do not trip the light fantastic at all times; they disagree, they spat, they might even have an occasional knock-down drag-out fight. But despite the fact these people are individuals in their own right, with the inevitable conflicts that arise from that, the simple truth of the matter is they literally cannot live without their better half. Their opposite number complements and completes them in such a way that life without them is simply unimaginable, and it is this type of relationship that I am hoping to portray here. We'll see if I'm actually a good enough writer to pull that off.

Secondly there was the thought that Hermione would never share, and her own self-esteem issues would prohibit her from allowing any kind of relationship triad to happen. I would disagree. Hermione does have self-esteem issues, of that there is no doubt. Yet I would argue many of those issues have been dealt with by book 7; she is aware of her strengths, and one of those is her willingness to love Harry so deeply that she is willing to suppress her own desires to make him happy (exhibit A: she promoted his relationship with the redhead). If she is willing to forward Harry's (perceived) happiness to that level in canon, I have no trouble making the leap that she would do whatever it takes to make him happy in my AU world, including share. Particularly if she's got some repressed bisexual itches that could use a good scratching. My personal experience tells me that the old chestnut about it "always being the bookish ones" has more than a small nugget of truth in it. Again, my own experiences dealing with those who live in a triad do not spend the day making paper cutouts of hearts and flowers; There are real issues, real problems, and all too frequently jealousy is something that must be fought with daily. But the successful triads I know are made up of people who care incredibly deeply for the others in the group, and are determined to make it work. Again, if this story goes like I think it will there will likely be another Soul Bond, and it's not going to do anything more than make this whole story more interesting and again if I'm a good enough writer, believable. All that said, I hope you folks give things a chance to see how they play out.

Okay, enough deep philosophy, let's get back to the story, because I know everyone is looking forward to seeing just how badly Harry gets his ass kicked for ditching Hermione to get himself killed off…

Oh, and disclaimer: I don't own these characters, because if I did, somebody would have caught Draco getting buggered by Theodore Nott as he screamed out "GIVE ME THAT DARK LORD!" …but I'm weird like that…

Hermione Granger had already determined that this was the Mother of all bad days, and that was before things _really_ went downhill.

Apparently it's hard to get a good nights' sleep when one thinks it might be the last time, and the nightmares had not helped, so of course she spent the night tossing and turning, woke up late, and did not have a chance to enjoy her morning cuppa before jumping into preparations for battle with a significant percentage of the population of Wizarding Britain. Hermione had of course read about other cultures and the way they all faced impending doom, and she had noted that in those situations, the warrior heading into battle tended to take some time to prepare themselves in such a way that if they were going to die, at least they looked good (by their cultural standards) doing it.

Hermione had, upon glancing in a mirror and noticing the dark circles under her eyes, and barely contained frizz that constituted her bed-head hair thrown hurriedly into a ponytail considered the fact that if she were in fact going to die today, it would be while she looked like a slightly rabid raccoon… and she was not amused. If she had to spend eternity looking like that, she had already decided that she would be personally waiting at the gates of Hell to meet each and every Death Eater, just so she could kick them in the shins one last time, as payback.

No it was not a good start to what she realized might be her last day on earth, and when Voldemort along with his minions arrived with the intent of killing everybody in sight, she noted at some point during the battle that this was officially the Mother of all bad days- and then Harry had to go and make it worse, the bastard.

She knew he was going, and what he planned to do. After all, the trio had taken a moment for the tearful goodbye, and when he walked away, Hermione had fully never expected to see Harry again alive. What had surprised her was being absolutely certain of the exact instant his soul departed, due to the fact she could feel her own soul being ripped in two. Hermione dropped to her knees at that moment, buried her face in her hands, knowing that her world was empty without Harry Potter, and not worth living in. A few moments later, when she looked up and around, it was with a calmness that was frightening to those who knew her, and Hermione knew for certain how the day would end, for her at least.

Quickly, plans were made-she was after all, Hermione Granger, and having planned out her entire life to this point simply meant that she was not going to end that life without a plan as well. Ron and McGonagall were both instructed to attack only Voldemort, and when Nevillle had done for the snake, he was to join in. Everyone else was to attack the Dark Lord as they were able while defending themselves as much as need be.

Hermione was going to be the distraction.

She had determined that if she was going to go, she was taking as many Death Eaters with her as she could, and Hermione Granger stepped back onto the field of battle looking less like the rabid raccoon she feared, and much more like the avenging angel that was capable of striking terror in the hearts of her enemy, a feat she accomplished with her first spell as Dolohov found his head _Reducto_'d right off his shoulders. Lucius Malfoy arguably had it worse, as the pieces that were once his body from the pelvis down would never be found, and if he didn't bleed out in the next 30 seconds, he would spend the remainder of his days being called "stumpy". By this point the spells were being sent in her direction at an impossible rate, but Hermione just didn't care. She pirouetted, ducked, fired, and danced through the Death Eater ranks like she was performing a Scottish Reel, and with every spin and step, another Death Eater fell. Bellatrix went down with a shocked looked on her face, having just enough time to realize her head was no longer attached. Her husband and his brother were both turned to a fine red mist, courtesy of the _Bombarda_ spell. Fully a dozen more went down before Hermione happened to spin around just in time to see a sickly green spell speeding towards her too close to avoid, and the red eyes filled with rage behind. The last thing Hermione Granger, heroine of the Battle of Hogwarts, smartest witch of her generation, and soul mate of Harry Potter said in this world, upon recognizing the situation, was "Shit", and then she fell, lifeless.

When Hermione opened her eyes, she was more than a little surprised to find herself in a rather cozy sitting room, with a warm fire, overstuffed furniture, and Sirius Black, who was sitting next to a couple she needed a moment to recognize. She surveyed the situation quickly, noted that if she was sitting in the same room with these people she must in fact be dead, and then began the interrogation.

"Sirius, why the Bloody Hell am I in Harry's afterlife, and where the Bloody Hell is he?" The late Lord Black had the sense of decency to look slightly embarrassed.

"Well, Hermione, it's wonderful to see you as well! May I introduce to you James and Lily Potter? James? Lilly? Meet Hermione Granger, the lovely young lady I told you so much about."

"Wonderful to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Potter, I do hope we have the chance to talk, but first, I'm afraid I need to neuter a dog if I do not get answers." Sirius' expression shifted from slightly embarrassed to decidedly uncomfortable.

"Hermione, I assure you, you will be able to see Harry soon, he's with his Angel of Death, and they are likely sorting things out now. But while they are sorting things there, we thought we would take the opportunity to help you understand the situation here. And for the record, while I am dead and theoretically unable to be neutered at this point, I would appreciate it if you considered the possibility that we are here to help and therefore not test that theory." Hermione cocked her head a little to the side, contemplated Sirius' words, sat up slightly straighter and nodded. "Talk. I will base my desire to test my 'afterlife neutering" theory on what you have to say." Sirius shifted uncomfortably in the chair again, while the Potter couple tried and failed to maintain straight faces.

"Hermione", Sirius began "When Harry arrived earlier; we were well aware you would be following closely behind, and the three of us had a meeting with your Angel of Death, and convinced her that we should be the ones to discuss everything with you. Unfortunately, brilliant as you are, there are a few things you are unaware of, and we thought you might take this information from us better than you would a stranger. Some of it is good, some of it is bad, but most of what we have to say should stay within the family, so to speak, and so here we are. I suppose we should begin with the first question, why you are in Harry's afterlife, and I suppose the easiest answer to that is because… well Hermione, it's because this is your afterlife as well." A feminine eyebrow arched high onto a lovely if stony female countenance, followed by a clipped "Explain." Sirius visibly gulped, then continued.

"You see Hermione, there is a type of magic referred to as a 'Soul Bond'. It's old magic, and so powerful and pervasive that a form of it even exists in the muggle world. I'm sure you'll want to do the research at some point, but briefly, when souls unite, the people involved complement each other so fully, that when one person dies, the bond is so damaged that whoever that person is bonded to will follow shortly thereafter. When Harry died this time, we knew you would be right behind him, because of the fact you two are bonded in such a way." At this point Sirius flinched, as if expecting a cutting curse to be flying towards his groin, and only began to relax when he saw Hermione was thinking the situation through.

"That just doesn't make sense. I mean true, Harry and I _are_ best friends, and I want him to be happy no matter what, and we have been through a _lot_ together, after all, just this past year in the tent we were as close as a… married… couple…" Hermione's eyes opened wide. "But we haven't even_ kissed_! Just because I felt him when he died, and I knew I couldn't live without him, I.. I… " And for the second time in one day, Hermione used what was for her, a very seldom used word. "Shit. I've been in love with him for years, and denied it, and now we're dead and together. How long have we been bonded, and does Harry know?" Hermione's obvious nervousness over the situation gave Sirius reason to believe he could relax, if just a little.

"Harry is being told by his Angel in their meeting, and you two began bonding in first year with the Troll. Everything the two of you have been through together since then has just strengthened the bond, and honestly, you two would have been a romantic couple by 5th year, without outside interference." Sirius cringed as the young witch's voice turned to ice. "What, exactly, do you mean by 'outside interference', Sirius?" It was at this point that Lilly Potter chose to make her presence felt.

"Hermione dear, you mustn't keep scaring Sirius. While it is true he deserves to be afraid for some of the pranks he's pulled, in the matter regarding yours and Harry's relationship, and Harry's difficulties he's quite innocent. The interference he is referring to came from a certain beloved headmaster, with the willing assistance from certain members of the Weasely family. Would you like me to explain?" Hermione shifted her attention to the young woman before her, composed her features, sighed and nodded. "Yes, please."

"We got all this information," Lilly Potter began "from Albus Dumbledore himself as soon as he arrived in Hell. It seems his 'Greater Good' was not the same thing the Powers that be considered it to be. As such, his transgressions against common decency were looked upon in a rather jaundiced light. But moving forward. The entire situation got out of hand with that cursed prophecy. When Dumbledore heard it, he immediately took it as true, and began to plan how best to make it come to fruition. As such, he set James and myself up in our weekend home, set up the Fidelius charm"- Hermione's eyebrow arched again- "Ah, you already see where this is heading. Yes, since he cast the charm he knew who the actual secret keeper was. Things then happened as they did, and Sirius was so shell shocked over everything he was in Azkaban before he had a chance to make any sense of things. Of course when he got out, Dumbledore swore Sirius to silence in exchange for giving him "his Godson and Freedom both". Of course Sirius forgot to set time limits on both, so there's that, but he had gone through having his brain addled for 12 years by Dementors, so James and I do not fault him there. "

"Of course, as soon as James and I were killed, and Harry was revealed to Dumbledore as being the child of the prophecy, he immediately went about setting his plan in motion- sending Harry to an abusive family to ensure pliability, 'rescuing' him by bringing him to Hogwarts to ensure an unhealthy dose of hero-worship, keeping him completely ignorant of his wizarding and muggle heritage- I'm rather proud of the fact my grandfather flew over London in the Battle of Britain, I dare say- denying him his property, and steering his interpersonal relationships towards isolation. The very fact you exist Hermione, actually caused him to have to modify his plans on more than occasion, in fact." Hermione looked at the Lady Potter, intrigued. "How so?" Lilly and James Potter joined Sirius Black in a predatory grin.

"When Harry saved you from the Troll, Dumbledore's sensors on Harry started going… I think the Americans call it 'Haywire'. He was well aware that just by being in his presence and actually caring about him, you were starting to heal Harry's wounds, so he determined to find some way to remove you from the picture. Beginning with the poisons left in the chamber your first year, you have been on the "make it look like an accident" list. The basilisk had been steered towards you, it was hoped you would run afoul of a Dementor 3rd year, 4th year you were never supposed to make it out of the Black Lake during the tournament… you get the idea. The old Bastard was having apoplectic fits by the time he died, because you and Harry both would not have the decency to go gracefully into that good night!" By this point, Lilly Potter was laughing brightly. "If he had only known how many times Harry sacrificed himself and died either trying to save you or avenge you, He might well have given himself an aneurism before the tournament, and saved us all a lot of trouble! Unfortunately," Lilly's face became serious once more, "He didn't."

"By the time Harry and you both began your 5th year, Dumbledore was well aware that you both were on the verge of declaring your growing feelings to each other, and while he wasn't aware the situation had gotten beyond his control already, he was aware of the risk of a soul bond. Completely unwilling to give you that much power or Harry that much strength, and knowing that you simply refused to die like a nice muggleborn should'- Hermione's face tightened at the phrase- "Yes, it seems that while his public perception was that of a rather progressive wizard, his private thoughts were much less… open, I think we should say. Anyway. As you refused to simply die like you were supposed to, Dumbledore began to explore alternate avenues to removing you from the picture, and after a short time, he settled on what, to him, was a simply elegant solution. By marrying you both off to members of the Weasely clan, a romantic bond between the two of you could not develop, yet you would in effect become brother-and-sister-in-law, so you would both feel like you were still close to the other. A brief discussion with Molly Weasely, a lot of potions later, and Bob's your Uncle, problem solved!" Lilly smiled softly at the silently weeping witch at this point. "No dear, you never were conflicted, you've always known it was Harry you loved, just as deep inside, Harry always knew he loved you. What you both thought was emotional turmoil was in fact your magic trying to throw off the effects of the potions, and you would have both succeeded easily had you not been dosed to what are ordinarily fatal levels. Eventually Ginny and Ron got so impatient, and Molly and Albus got so desperate, that they kept upping the dosage past the point of reason. Had you and Harry not been as magically strong as you both are, you would have given in long before it reached that point. As it was, that same magical strength kept both of you from being killed by the potions… except that one time when Ginny accidentally doubled the dosage." At this point Hermione latched onto what seemed to be the offhand comment.

"You said Harry has died before trying to save me or avenge me. How many times has he died, and why didn't I know or die with him?" James Potter looked at his best friend and wife, and then to Hermione.

"Actually, Hermione, today Harry died for the 13th time… and you died for the 5th. When certain people who are fated to greatly influence the world and history die before their times, they are generally sent directly back to the moment of that death with no memory of the event, other than having a miraculous escape. The miraculous escapes you enjoyed that weren't, were the Troll, Basilisk, DOM, and Malfoy Manor. These events are actually responsible for 8 of Harry's deaths, as the Troll had to go through him to get to you, Fawkes didn't make it in time originally when we went to avenge you, He threw himself in front of Dolohov's curse twice in fact, then took an AK in the back from Malfoy as he was trying to pummel Dolohov to death a third time, and as for Malfoy Manor… let's just all try to forget what happened there, shall we? It wasn't pleasant for either of you, and I will leave it at that. You might have died quite a few more times, as you were on your way to wreak vengeance several times when Harry was sent back, and I'm told your Death Angel is perpetually worried that you'll sacrifice yourself before Harry has a chance to." James Potter gave a wry grin at the last comment, while Hermione had the good grace to blush.

"With Harry's death total where it is though, certain steps are having to be taken. The Powers that be are determined that Fate should have its' way, because apparently there is a Master Plan that is supposed to be followed. Generally things run rather smoothly, more or less, but Voldemort has gummed up the works considerably. Sirius here"- The animagus waved with a grin- "Was actually supposed to have lived another 10 years, before getting _Reducto_'d by an angry father of twins. He had come close to accomplishing all he was sent to do though, so it was decided that he would stay. You and Harry though, are vital to setting Fate back on track, so you keep getting sent back. The problem is, 13 is getting a little ridiculous, Harry's Assigned Death Angel has gotten into some hot water over this, and so they've decided to assign him to one that is a little more proactive, in the hopes that he can keep all of you from getting killed before your time. As such- yes, Hermione, what is it?"

"I was just curious," The witch began "you used the term 'all of you' as opposed to 'the two of you'. Was there a reason for this?" Hermione looked calmly curious, Sirius Black looked terrified, Lilly Potter tried to hide a smirk, and James Potter looked for all the world like he had just noticed a logging truck bearing down on him at 50 miles an hour from 3 feet away.

The discussion continued for a short time as Hermione learned what she needed to know from Harry's family, and with all this new information in her head, she delicately rose from her chair, closed her eyes for a moment, opened them, smiled at the Potters, scowled at Sirius, and said "Harry and I need to have a discussion with you, we will be back shortly." With those words she simply disappeared, leaving Sirius to look at the laughing Potters before he said "Dead. They're all doomed, because she's going to kill them in incredibly creative and detailed ways, and nobody will ever be able to prove it was her, you realize that?" To which Lilly responded "No, Sirius, the only ones in danger of being killed by her are Voldemort and Dumbledore after Harry finds out what he did to her. Everyone else will just _wish_ they were dead. Now, how do we deal with Harry when Hermione brings him back by his ear?"

I another part of the afterlife, Hermione Granger appeared, straightened her robes, brushed her hair back from her face, and surveyed the outside of the "Last Chance Bar and Grill". It struck her as looking very similar to shrieking shack, if in slightly worse repair, but as she took a deep breath and prepared herself mentally, she strode towards the door and flung it open with a crash.

The two people inside jumped when the door flew open, and Hermione was slightly gratified to notice that the man in the was cringing while Harry only looked resigned when she said the first thought that came to her mind:

"HARRY JAMES POTTER I AM GOING TO **KILL** YOU!"


	4. Chapter 4

A.N. Thanks to all who are responding so favorably (and those of you who are responding with trepidation as well) to this work. The fact that so many are eagerly awaiting the next installment is both gratifying and terrifying. Just a quick couple points I want to make before we get on with the show.

First, I would like to apologize for any errors in spelling or grammar that appear, but I suspect one or two will continue to pop up from time to time. The reasoning for this is simple: I not only do not have a Beta reader, what you are reading has been uploaded within 10 minutes of my actually completing the chapter. I do have a plotline I want to follow, my characters are clearly defined in my mind, but I am quite literally allowing those characters to dictate the story to me. As such, when I reach the end of a chapter, I give it a proofread, inevitably miss something, upload it, reread it, and think "Damn". While I do manage to catch most of my typos and outright misspellings, the fact remains I will miss from time to time. When you couple this with the fact that I tend to write in the same way I tend to hold a conversation with the same general syntax and grammar, mistakes will occur. I ask your indulgence, knowing that I am attempting to be conscientious with my use of the English language. Perhaps one day when this beast is completed I will go through it with a fine tooth comb to correct my blips, but for now it is frankly more important to me that I get the story down, before it escapes.

Secondly, I would like to warn you all, my current rate of posting is not going to continue indefinitely, and will in fact slow down somewhat dramatically. I am a college student and my spring semester has just started this past week. As such, I currently have more time to write for fun than I will at any other time for the next 16 weeks. As assignments come in and come due, I will need to spend more of my efforts towards the writing that gets me a grade, rather than the writing that gets me a review. When the inevitable slowdown in posting occurs, I will ask your patience, knowing that I am not one to walk away from a project before it is finished.

That said, here's the next installment wherein Hermione and Harry have their much anticipated confrontation, and The Lord Black meets up with the Rainbow Rider, Harry's Death Angel. Who's more "f***ing nuts"? Read and decide for yourselves.

Disclaimer: I don't own it. If I did, Neville would have shown up at Platform 9 ¾ in the epilogue big pimpin', with harem and rugrats in tow… Dude _earned_ it…

As the door of the bar slammed open to Hermione Granger's high decibel announcement of the impending doom that awaited Harry Potter, the subject of that announcement took a deep breath, sat up straight and patiently awaited the verbal assault that was forthcoming.

"Harry Potter, you insufferable prat, you outrageous TWIT!" Hermione Granger was building up a head of steam, and while Harry withstood the onslaught as a seawall might stand before a hurricane, Casey Tibbs, erstwhile Angel of Death and one of the toughest cowboys that had ever lived experienced a rare emotion for him, that of slight fear. In his defense, the fury that was a righteously indignant Granger girl did take some getting used to.

"Do you have ANY idea of the mess you made? Not only did you have to go be stupidly noble and self-sacrificing for absolutely no good reason, your actions, if left in place, have _guaranteed_ that that idiot Dark Lord will rule over half the known world before the muggles get involved, and NOBODY will expect the American Inquisition! As if that weren't enough, when you died, you bloody well ripped my soul in half, AND ensured the deaths of virtually everyone else at Hogwarts today, AND you left your other soul mate down there wondering why she feels like she will never be happy again! Be glad you haven't bonded as deeply with her as you have with me yet, or you would be dealing with BOTH of us! What do you have to say for yourself, and if I hear the words 'It seemed like a good idea at the time' cross your lips, I am giving you SUCH a pinch! Well? ANSWER ME, HARRY JAMES POTTER!" Harry looked the young woman who had just managed to confess her love and bond to him in what was quite possibly the least romantic way possible, grinned just the tiniest bit, and responded in the only way he could.

"Casey? I would like you to meet Hermione Granger, smartest witch of her generation, also quite possibly the scariest; the girl I have been too stupid to realize I've been in love with for years now, and the only reason you and I haven't met before today. Hermione? May I introduce you to Casey Tibbs, former muggle, champion cowboy in the rodeo, a rather nice fellow with poor taste in whiskey, and my Angel of Death?"

"Lovely to meet you Mr. Tibbs, I'm sure." Hermione glanced to the grinning angel, and then snapped her face back towards Harry, giving him a steely gaze. "Did you just say you loved me?" Harry wilted slightly. "Well, yeah. I mean really, Hermione, if everything else we've been through together, everything we've done wasn't enough, wouldn't the fact that you were the last person I thought of before I died be a big enough hint, even for me? I'm certain that- mmph…" Whatever Harry had been intending to say was lost to the ages then, as Hermione grabbed him by the collar, and did something that she had been aching to do on some level since her 1st year at Hogwarts; Hermione Granger proceeded to snog Harry Potter to within an inch of his life. Harry's arms flailed about just a bit when the snog attack began, but as he realized just how good, how right it felt to have his lips against this witch's, how perfectly their tongues were dancing together, how utterly fulfilled his heart was feeling at the moment, he gave in, wrapped his arms around Hermione and allowed himself that greatest of rarities; Harry Potter allowed himself to be happy. As they both realized that air was actually becoming an issue, what had seemed like an endless kiss did in fact end with contented sighs coming from wizard and witch alike. Harry opened his eyes after a moment though, to see a glaring Granger, and Angel of Death grinning like he'd just hit the lottery. He briefly considered the ramifications of his actions, decided that the Angel wasn't as dangerous, and looked into Hermione's eyes. "Am I forgiven?"

Hermione continued her glare. "Not even close, Mister Potter. Just because I love you it doesn't mean I appreciate you doing something so incredibly stupid. I mean, really, what made you think going to the Forest to be killed by Tom was a good idea? Seriously Harry, what were you thinking?" Harry just looked heartbroken. "Hermione, the pensieve memories Dumbledore left all said I was a horcrux, and the only way I could make sure that Tom was completely mortal would be for me to die. I didn't want to, leaving you was the most painful thing I've ever done, but I was absolutely sure I _had_ to. Please forgive me?"

Hermione decided that Harry's "beaten puppy" look was not something to be encouraged in the future, as it had always worked much too well on her, and today was no exception. "Harry, I get it, Dumbledore was wrong, but he was certain he knew best, you, I, and everyone else bought into it, and very well, I forgive you, but where does that leave us now? How do we deal with that evil twit?" At this point the cowboy who had been leaning back and enjoying the show decided to make his presence known again.

"Hermione ma'am, I believe that is where I come in. And may I say that it is a rare pleasure to meet someone as lovely and spirited as yourself? You would have done just as well in my world as you are doing in yours, I assure you." At which point the Angel kissed Hermione's hand softly, and with a rakish smile. Hermione blushed softly, before taking her hand back gently. "Never you mind that Mister Tibbs-" "Casey, ma'am, please call me Casey." "Very well Casey, and please call me Hermione. But I must advise you that I already have one incorrigible flirt in my life, and I am certain that Sirius does need or desire the competition. Now, you mentioned that this is the point where 'you come in.' May I inquire as to how, precisely, you intend to do that?" The Cowboy proceeded to grin in a manner that could only be described as "evil", a disconcerting look for someone who was supposed to be a supernatural force for good.

"Hermione, I've been given word that Harry's folks and Godfather explained the situation to you, right?" The young witch nodded in a businesslike manner while Harry did a double take to stare at Hermione. She simply shook her head and said "You'll see them soon Harry, I promise." Slightly mollified, Harry turned back to face Casey, who continued to explain. "Well, I still haven't told Harry everything yet, but here's the long and short of it: Harry, yer regular Death Angel is on the verge of getting fired, because you can't keep yourself from getting killed. The Powers that Be want Voldemort off the face of the Mortal World, Fate has decided you are the guy to do it with as little extra damage as possible, and since your regular Death Angel has apparently lacked the _cojones_ to do what it took, you, and by extensions your Soul Mates, have been assigned… to me. My job is to make sure you go back ready to do what needs doing, and if possible, clean up a little bit of the train wreck that we currently have. Before I took the job, though, I insisted on a little latitude to be able to actually accomplish this mission. As such, while we're sending you back this time with your memories intact, that's just the start, as far as I'm concerned."

"Both of you are, from what I've been able to learn, about as powerful as they come, and I'm going to take full advantage of that fact. Since time here really just doesn't haven't any meaning, we're going to spend a little bit of it teaching you what you need to know before you head back. Harry, your folks and Godfather are going to be in charge of the magic stuff, I hear they've made a few friends here in the afterlife who can be a help in that regard, and I…" "That grin became downright predatory- "I am going to teach you both "alternative muggle skills". When that gets done, we send you both back to the time and place you choose up to this point, where you get another chance to keep things from going completely to Hell. Hermione, the idea is if you're just as clued in as Harry, you can keep him from wading into some of his situations half-cocked, and lessen the odds of us having to try to again. Think you can help us keep yer man alive?" Hermione stared at the Cowboy for a moment, and then replied "Teach me everything you can, and you won't see Harry or I until our appointed time." Harry, though, was having other thoughts.

"Does this mean I can save everyone? Cedric? Sirius? My…. Mum and Dad?" Casey gave him a much softer smile, as Hermione took his hand and squeezed, knowing what the Angel was about to say. "Harry, everyone has their appointed amount of time in the world, and to attempt to extend that time for one means that someone else will have to have their life shortened to even things out. You _are_ going to be able to save some people, because Lord Puss has ended a lot of lives prematurely, the Powers that Be are telling me that if you do manage to save some of those lives, they may actually enjoy longer lifespans than they were originally intended to. But there are some, Harry, that you have to let go, and you have to know that it wasn't because of anything you might or might not have done, but because their time ran out. Because of that, I'm going to tell you right now that you need to plan on going to a point during Hogwarts, because your parents? Well, they accomplished everything they were supposed to, and as a one year old, no matter how smart you are, you aren't going to be able to change that sequence of events from happening. Fate would have her panties in a serious wad, if we tried, am I clear on that?" Harry blinked back the tears, and simply nodded, as Hermione rubbed small circles on his back. "Kid, it's not as bad as it sounds. Remember I told you who would be in charge of magic training while you're here, right?" Harry brightened visibly as he remembered the earlier comment. "Okay, so deal is, you both sign the contract saying that you keep yer memories, you know what the job is- killing Lord Dumbass off- we train you, send you back to a time of your choosing, and until we are comfortable that you will be able to accomplish your tasks without getting killed every time you turn around, we are free to guide you as we see fit. Any questions?" Hermione spoke up immediately. "Who can we tell? Our actions are going to seem 'off' to those who are close to us, and some of them will be better able to help if they are aware of the situation." Casey appeared deep in thought.

"Word is you can tell y'all's Soul Mate of course… and Neville Longbottom… and if anyone else needs to know, you'll be informed of that fact as the need arises. Otherwise, keep it to yerselves, and let Fate do its' thing. Now, anything else at the moment?" Harry had been stewing over it for a while, and he had to ask. "I keep hearing mentions of another Soul Mate besides Hermione. Who is she, and why isn't she here as well?" Hermione took Harry, spun him around, and looked deep in his eyes. "She's not here because you haven't bonded with her to the level you have with me, and I have just barely begun to bond with her, a situation both of us will rectify as quickly as possible on our return. As for the 'whom', that that is something we will attend to when it is more appropriate, as I do not need you worrying about any more people than you already are, Mr. Potter! Right now, we need to sign that contract, so you can go see your parents and Sirius, and we can get started putting this mess in order. Okay?" Hermione's eyes had softened while she spoke to Harry, and by the time she had finished speaking he was ready to agree to anything that would keep those eyes looking into his in that manner. "Where do I sign?"

When the wizard, witch and cowboy all reappeared in the sitting room, happy chaos reigned. Harry was sobbing while he hugged his parents and Godfather, and his tears were freely mingling with those closest to him. Hermione was pulled into the mass of weeping laughter, and Casey simply leaned back against the wall and smiled softly to himself. As Harry's apologies were vigorously rejected, and his emotional healing began in earnest, The Angel was making a promise to himself, that this scene would not be repeated until the time was right, and that time was well over a century in the future. A mischievous glint would have been noticed in his eyes, if his charges and their loved ones had not been so wrapped up in their reunion. When the tears had all died down, everyone began to return their attention to the Angel standing just apart with a grin on his face, and Hermione spoke for all of them when she said "Very well, Casey, here we are, Harry and I are ready… now what?" "Well now Hermione," Casey responded with a grin "We do a training montage!" The Angel scowled slightly and made a slashing motion with his hand as the first notes of "Eye of the Tiger" began to play from seemingly nowhere, only to stop at the cowboy's gesture. "Never really liked that song, and if I'm gonna be in charge of training you two, it's going to be to my music. Can I get a little Chris LeDoux, please?" He asked no one in particular, smiling when he heard the Rodeo Rock n' Roll version of the "William Tell Overture" begin. "That's more like it… okay you two, let's get to work!

{An unspecified and indeterminate length of time later}

Harry Potter and Hermione Granger stood with their arms comfortably around each other's waist, as they spoke to his parents and late Godfather one last time before heading back to the modern world. The time spent in learning, working, and being part of a family showed on both young people's faces, as they were relaxed, confident, and smiling. It is a strange trick of the world beyond, that while the changes happen much more slowly relatively, and one does not grow old per se, one can mature and grow stronger, as the soul gains wisdom and maturity. So it was that the youthful wizard and witch still retained that look of youth, but both were stronger, browner of skin, and carried a posture that resembled nothing more than two apex predators lounging around a watering hole on the African Savannah. Lilly Potter ended the easy camaraderie when she looked closely at her son, and began asking the questions that every mother asks when sending her son off to certain danger, the questions designed to reassure herself that he is as prepared as possible.

"Now Harry, are you sure that you and Hermione are comfortable with your level of occlumency?"

Harry glanced at Hermione, who raised both one eyebrow, and the smallest corner of her lips. "Yes, Mum. Remember when Salazar said if he couldn't get through them, no one could? And how he said that immediately after we gave him a headache from kicking him out of our minds?" It then became James' turn.

"Harry, about the animagus training- are you sure that-" Hermione cut him off with a soft smile.

"James. Lilly. We'll start the physical transformation within 24 hours of returning, we assure you. We will begin the physical training at the same time, to get our bodies in the shape they are in here. We will be using the room of requirement at Hogwarts as often as needed to practice the spellwork, and get our magical cores built up as quickly as possible. We will also brush our teeth every night, and be absolutely certain to wear clean knickers at all times. Am I leaving anything out, Lilly?" Hermione had by this point begun grinning at the woman who she saw as more of an older sister than anything else, their respective ages on entering the hereafter had been just too close. James and Sirius, she had determined early on were the brothers she wished she had never had, and while she loved them dearly, they had successfully raised her ire more often than the Weasely twins, a feat she had not thought possible before her death. The slightly older witch sniffed airily. "Well, I was going to mention the goblins one more time, but since you seem to be perfectly capable of caring for yourselves…" Lilly Potter's face softened, and there were unshed tears behind her smile. "Could the three of you come visit our graves every now and again? Perhaps bring the grandchildren, so they can hear about their doting grandparents who are watching them and are so proud of them, just as proud as they are of their son and daughters-in-law?" Harry wrapped his mother in a tight hug, and whispered "We promise, Mum. They should know what they mean to you, and we'll make sure they do." As mother and son embraced tightly, a softly clearing throat was heard behind them. Harry slowly broke the embrace to turn and see Casey looking slightly sheepish.

"Kids, I know it's weird, but I've been told we have a schedule to keep, so it's time to tell everyone 'See ya', and for y'all to be heading back. So, let's wrap it up, allright?" After one more round of hugs, Harry and Hermione again stood with their arms around each others' waist, smiled, and Harry spoke for both when he said "Mum, Dad? We'll miss you, and thank you for… everything, really. I think I can say being dead and with you may have been the best thing to ever happen to me. We- Harry glanced at Hermione, who returned the glance with a barely perceptible nod- We love you, and It'll be simply brilliant when we get back here, but we promise to keep each other alive until it's actually time." James Potter hugged his son once more, then looked in his eyes. "We're so proud of you son, and we expect to you to keep that promise. Hermione? Try to keep him from doing anything particularly foolhardy, will you?" Hermione simply grabbed the Senior Potter into a hug, and whispered in his ear. "We love you too, but you won't get another chance for over a century to tell him yourself. Quit being such a man, and let him know." James' eyes widened slightly as Hermione stepped back from the hug, nodded resolutely, and turned to Harry. "Hermione's right son, I'm not good at saying some things, but you should hear from not just your mother, but myself as well. We… I… love you. And I'll be missing you terribly. Please take care?" Harry half sobbed as he wrapped his father in one last embrace, which he broke quickly. Potter men did have a reputation for strength that needed to be maintained, after all. "I will, Dad, and I'll miss you and mum terribly. Sirius?" The late Lord Black grinned back. "Yes, milord?" Harry rolled his eyes. "Quit that. I'd tell you we'll miss you, but you'll still be alive when we get there, and this time we intend to keep it that way. Now, what have we told you?" Sirius looked petulant, then recited back like a recalcitrant 5 year old. "No Department of Mysteries and no screwing around with twins. Why are you making me memorize this when it's in my future and I won't know?" "Because Sirius," Hermione answered primly "We're hoping that if one bit of information can go back with you, that will be it. We would prefer you live long enough to meet your God-Grandchildren in person, as it were."

Casey cleared his throat once more, a little more forcefully, this time, only to have Hermione look at him piercingly. "Honestly, Casey, you could have just spoken up. It's not like we are completely oblivious to your presence, appearances notwithstanding." The Death Angel simply grinned. "Well be that as it may, the fact of the matter is we need to get rolling. So, let's wrap this up, okay?" Hermione huffed slightly. "Fine. James, Lilly, we'll see you next century, Sirius, we'll see you first Hogsmeade weekend. We love you all. Casey, we'll see you whenever you decide to grace us with your presence. Harry, are we ready?" Harry Potter looked once more with a smile on his family he had once thought lost, but now understood them to only be out of touch for the time being. He reached down to grasp the hand of the young woman who he had died for, and after learning the lessons he had in this place, now intended to live for. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and said "Ready, Hermione. Do what you need to do Casey…"

And opened his eyes to find himself sitting next to a noticeably younger Hermione at the Griffindor table in the Great Hall at Hogwarts. Harry exhaled a breath he didn't realize he was holding, took a close look around, and then glanced at Hermione with a slightly arched eyebrow, a look she returned with a barely perceptible nod. _"Good, she really is back here with me."_ Harry thought. _"I know it was supposed to be in the contract, but I was not looking forward to trying to explain to her, if things had gone wrong. Okay, let's just make sure… "_ Harry looked to the Head table, to see a scarred man with a magical eye that was staring back at him. _"Yup, there's Barty Jr., so we're in 4__th__ year, according to plan. Have to save Cedric if I can, after all. Now, just when did they send us back?"_ Harry's unasked question was answered as the new first years filed in to be sorted. Harry glanced over at Hermione, a questioning look on his face that was answered with a small scowl and smaller shake of the head. _"So Hermione doesn't know why first night either. Suppose we'll just have to play this out a little bit, and see if some answers show themselves."_ Harry and Hermione sat through the ceremony, politely clapping as each first year went to his assigned house, and passed the time catching up with Neville (on Harry's part) and being politely dismissive of Ron (on Hermione's part). The last first year had just been assigned to her house, and the low conversation before dinner was beginning when Professor Dumbledore stood, raised his arms slightly and waited for the silence that soon fell. With a smile on his face, the Headmaster looked over his charges, and spoke.

"Students of Hogwarts, it is rare when we receive a new student who is not in their first year. Most magical children begin their academic careers at one institution where they remain until they are prepared to enter Wizarding society as well rounded adults. It must be said though, that while rare, such transfers are known to happen from time to time, and this evening we welcome just such a transfer, who will be sorted into his house, and complete his education here at Hogwarts. Ladies and Gentlemen, I ask you to welcome with open arms, coming to us from the Ute Mountain Institute of Magic in America, Mr. Casey Tibbs!"

Harry stared slack jawed at Hermione, who was returning the favor, as a young wizard wearing robes and an oversized Stetson hat strode confidently towards Professor McGonagall. Upon reaching her, he gave the nonplussed Assistant Headmistress a rakish grin, and simply said "Ma'am?" The Professor pointed to the stool without a word, and before the American had even completely gotten settled, she had removed his Cowboy hat, and replaced it with headwear of a slightly older provenance. Harry and Hermione joined the rest of the school in staring at horrified fascination at the process, although neither of them was the least bit surprised when the hat, after what had appeared to be a protracted mental struggle with the young man under it, finally shouted "GRIFFINDOR! AND GIVE HIM HIS BLOODY HAT BACK!" The young man hopped off the stool, took his Stetson back from the struck dumb Professor with a "Thanks for watching it for me, ma'am." and proceeded directly through a silent crowd of students to the Griffindor table, where he proceeded to set himself down with casual grace next to an openly shocked Neville Longbottom, grinned maniacally at a horrified Harry and Hermione, and said:

"Hey guys! Ya miss me?"


	5. Chapter 5

A.N. Not much to blather about this time, but for the reviewer who asked, yes I am well aware that I haven't mentioned who Harry's other soul mate is, yet… I'm trying to create a little suspense here, help a guy out!

Also, got a paper due in Agricultural History a week from Monday on a book I haven't read yet. So it will probably be a couple weeks before the next installment of this little saga…

Disclaimer: I don't own it. If I did, Won Won and Lav Lav would have eventually ended up living in a trailer park in deepest darkest Alabama, with the rest of the white trash… Seriously? He ditched his buddy when his buddy was in a bind? More than once? And STILL got the girl? That s**t just ain't right, y'all….

The utter silence filling the Great hall of Hogwarts School was broken when the bravest of the Griffindor Lions extended his hand to the new transfer student. "Hi, I'm Neville, Neville Longbottom. Welcome to Hogwarts." Casey shook the extended hand with a grin. "Pleased to meet 'ya Neville! I'm Casey, and it's good to know a friend of Harry and Hermione here, they mentioned you a lot over the summer, said you were as tough as they come…" The cowboy leaned in to whisper loudly enough for half the table to hear "Did you _really_ tell Hermione here that you wouldn't let her leave the common room after curfew in first year?" Neville flushed and nodded, with his eyes cast down, as a rapidly recovering Harry and Hermione smirked. "Then it's official." Casey said loud enough for anyone listening to hear. "Anyone who's willing to stand up to Hermione here when she's on a mission has _got_ to be the biggest badass in this school, and you must have some cast iron _huevos_. Hope we can end up being buddies, Neville!" Casey clapped Neville on the shoulder while the young wizard looked confused. "Ummm… what exactly are _huevos_, then?"

Harry cracked up while Hermione tried and failed to keep her eyes from rolling slightly. "Neville," Harry said "Casey here is saying you have cast iron ones." He pointed towards Neville's waist. "Down there." Neville followed the imaginary line that Harry was making, looking towards his lower regions. "Oh… OH!" Virtually all who had been following the conversation to this point began laughing along with a red faced Longbottom.

One who was currently not laughing found himself sitting on Hermione's right, surrounded by the conversation, but confused as to why he was not part of it. Ron had been confused throughout the sorting ceremony, as it seemed that Harry and Hermione had simultaneously had a shudder pass through them, from which point on, the atmosphere in the room had been decidedly… chillier. Ron had no idea why this would be, but he was determined to find out. After dinner though, for food had begun to appear on the tables, and he realized that it had been more than an hour since his last meal. The mystery would still be there after dinner, the food would not wait.

As everyone began to tuck into their evening meal, Casey began to regale those surrounding the small group with tales of The American West ("yup, it's a cowboy hat, I learned to work cows and ride bucking horses in South Dakota, where I grew up."), his magical education to this point ("Naw, they have wands out there, but a lot of the magic is rituals from the Indians. My school did a pretty good job of mixing the native magic with stuff from over here in Europe."), to how he knew Harry and Hermione ("Bumped into Harry here in muggle London of all places. I'd just moved here with my folks, Harry and I literally ran into each other in a grocery store, got to talking, became friends faster than you can say 'spit on a skillet', then found out we were both magic. Damndest thing. Then of course he tells me I need to meet this friend of his, she knows damn near everything and is one of the nicest people I'd ever want to meet, so if I need help with getting squared away in England, she's the perfect go-to. Of course Harry was right, and Hermione's been a buddy since about the time we first shook hands."). The easy charm and relaxed smile he was giving off drew more and more listeners to the young cowboy's tales, while Harry and Hermione surreptiously held hands under the table and paid close attention to the stories- the better to verify their veracity if they were questioned alone, later. Harry noted the casual way that Casey was ingratiating himself to his housemates, while Hermione was observing the plausibility of the story, noting that everything he mentioned _could_ have happened, so the likelihood of their being challenged on this apparently unlikely friendship was actually minimal. At least she felt that way until the self-appointed heir of Slytherin chose to reestablish the normal social order by nipping this disturbance in the bud.

Casey was in the middle of telling Neville and half the table a story about a misadventure between himself and the father of a Rodeo Queen in Colorado ("So I says to her Daddy 'Hey. She told me to kiss her or she was gonna kick my ass. What was I supposed to do?' Her old man didn't buy it, so next thing you see was me running across the fairgrounds in my underwear with him on my tail like fleas on a dog. Whole damn town was there, too. Good times."), when he saw the shadow descend over the table, and the scowls settle on the faces of those surrounding him. He looked at his tablemates curiously, then turned around to see a blonde haired boy in green trimmed robes flanked by two hulking boys in the same trim on either side. Casey looked between the three, reached over to the table for his glass of pumpkin juice, took a sip, and stared back at the three blank faced. "Can I help you, blondie?"

Draco Malfoy looked down his nose at the interloper to his domain, sneered ever so slightly then began the process of reasserting his authority. "Bad enough you have to be a bloody American, worse still that you are in Griffindor, but then you have to go and surround yourself from the very beginning of your time here with the very dregs. Mr. Tibbs, I would advise you to be well aware of who your betters are, and if you find yourself in the company of a squib, blood-traitor, half blood and-" He looked at Hermione with disgust "mudblood, then you will find that you truly are at the bottom of the heap here. Do yourself a favor and watch your step. After all, bad things happen to those who stick their necks out."

Casey listened to the scion of Malfoy impassively, appeared to think for a moment then looked up at Draco. "So you're telling me that I can either ditch my friends here, and keep my head down, or else you or somebody you know is going to make sure I regret it. Do I have that about right?" Draco smiled coldly. "You may be more intelligent than your current associations would lead me to believe, Mr. Tibbs." Casey again appeared to be reflecting, while silence began to settle on the Great Hall. Everyone could see the confrontation brewing, and while eyes were turning toward the group at the table, a Transfiguration Misstress felt a hand on her arm holding her in place, as a Potions Master was loosed upon the supposed sheep, unaware that some of those sheep had themselves recently acquired fangs.

Casey looked Malfoy up and down, then similarly surveyed his sidekicks, while Harry, Hermione, and Neville subtly reached for their wands. Ron assisted as well, but subtlety was not his strong suit as his wand appeared in his hand. At this point, the Potions Professor made his presence known.

"10 points from Griffindor for brandishing your wand, Mr. Weasely." Snape said with an oily cast to his voice. "And may I ask as to why you have my Slytherins over here to your table?" Harry and Hermione both bit their tongues, this was the Angel's play, and they knew interfering would only make it more difficult later. Besides, they had a good idea, based on their history with the cowboy, as to how this would end up.

"Well, Professor- Snape, ain't it?" The potions Master nodded with a scowl. ""Well Professor, here I was, just minding my own business, wasn't I, guys?" The rest of the table nodded on cue. "Yup, just settin' here, minding my own business, when these three gentlemen came over to the table, and they asked if what I had said was true, if I really did eat glass, and spit sand. Well, I was just getting ready to show them, when here you come, taking points and asking questions. So basically, nothing to see here!" Casey grinned disarmingly at Snape, who returned it with a cold smile.

"I for one would like to see the veracity of your story, Mr. Tibbs. Perhaps you would care to demonstrate here and now?" Snape's smile faltered when Casey's grin never wavered as he said "Okay!" and reached for his glass of Pumpkin Juice.

Casey drained the glass and smacked his lips as he eyed his glass speculatively, seeming unaware of the nervously supportive faces behind him, or the predatory faces before him. "I don't know about this pumpkin juice. Back home we drank yucca juice, and it wasn't quite as… pumpkiney. Reckon I'll get used to it, though. When in Rome, and all that… Oh, you guys in a hurry? You seem mighty anxious for some reason, so let's get this show rolling." Casey looked his glass over, then casually took a bite from the rim and chewed calmly, ignoring the gasps behind him, the nervous looks on the three young faces in front of him, or the growing apoplexy in the face of his Potions Professor.

"See, the thing about eating glass," Casey commented between loud crunches- "is you gotta know yer tougher than it is. As soon as you wrap your brain around that…" Casey took a swallow to shocked gasps, and smiled a bright, white smile at his would-be tormentors, "the rest is pretty easy!" He held the glass with a bite removed from its' lip out toward Draco. "Wanna give it a shot?" Snape had seen enough.

"Twenty points from Griffindor, for destruction of school property, and another 10 for making threats against another student, Mr. Tibbs. I look forward to seeing you in my classroom, where I will have the opportunity to better teach you proper manners. Your… cowboy act… is already beginning to wear upon me."

Snape turned and stalked back to the head table, ignoring the halfhearted protests of Griffindors, while Malfoy smirked, secure in the knowledge he was still untouchable. "As I said, Tibbs, be cautious of the company you keep, parlor tricks will not protect you if you should happen to be caught in the crossfire."

He had turned and taken two steps back towards the Slytherin table when the bolt of lightning struck directly of him, unleashing chaos throughout the Great Hall and causing the scion of the house of Malfoy to scream in a noticeably girlish manner, while jumping backwards into Casey. As such, no one heard the cowboy whisper darkly into his ear as Malfoy stood trembling. "The next one is through your skull, and happens to you if a finger gets laid on any of my friends, do you understand me, bitch?"

Malfoy whimpered and nodded, as the puddle began to form at his feet. "Do not assume power you do not have, or fuck with things you don't understand, Draco Malfoy. The one you worship as a god has annoyed the One who is, and the time of reckoning is fast coming nigh. I am going to give you the same advice you tried to give me; Be careful of the company you keep, and be aware if you stick your neck out, it most likely will come back without a head attached. Are we very clear?" Malfoy mutely nodded, as Casey shoved him forward. "Then get back to your table, and stay out of our business."

As Malfoy stumbled forward, Dumbledore had arrived to the scene of the disturbance, eyes in full twinkle mode, and equanimity rolling off him in waves. "Ah, Messrs. Potter and Tibbs, Miss Granger, may I enquire as what you think may have just occurred here? Casey just shrugged his shoulders innocently, while Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance. Harry decided to start things off. "Actually, professor, I think I remember Hermione read something about strange weather phenomena happening in the Great hall in _Hogwarts: A History_. Hermione? Do you remember that?"

"Actually Harry, I do. It's said that while it occurs only rarely, from time to time the ceiling will accumulate an overload of magic which is released through weather phenomena. Typically this will take the form of rain, or some other form of precipitation, but more violent outbursts have been recorded, the last in 1796 when a student found herself swept out to the quidditch pitch due to a cyclone sweeping through the Hufflepuff table. The reason for this overload is not known, although there are several theories for the cause. Thank you for paying attention, Harry." Hermione blushed lightly, and ducked her head a tiny bit.

The Headmaster's eyes continued to twinkle, and the gentle smile continued to play across his face, covering the confusion he had experienced over his passive occlumency hitting three brick walls. He hadn't even bothered to ask Ron; his confusion was written on his face, making any probing an exercise in redundancy. "I see. Well then, Miss Granger, I am certain Professor Flitwick and I would both greatly enjoy seeing a report from you indicating your experience this evening, as well as your ideas on what might have been the cause, if you would be willing. Perhaps a fresh set of eyes and different perspective might shed new light on the matter? There will of course be extra credit assigned for such a report, in your Charms class. Now shall we all take our seats and continue our repast? I do have one or two more small announcements to make before we retire for the evening, and as entertaining as events might have been, we should conclude our meals."

The neutral look Harry and Hermione both held dropped to a pair of small scowls as Dumbledore turned and made his way back to the head table. While everyone settled down, Harry and Hermione both glared at Casey, who grinned back almost recklessly. Harry leaned forward and whispered so low he almost hissed.

"What the Bloody Hell are you doing here? We thought you would be checking in from time to time, not moving in!" The Death Angel winked back, and simply mouthed "Later" as he pointed to the Head Table. Harry turned, saw Dumbledore standing with arms held wide, and suppressed a groan.

"_Damned tournament announcement"_ Harry thought to himself as he unconsciously reached for Hermione's hand, which had been seeking his at the same time. With carefully schooled features, they appeared to listen to the headmaster cancel the Quidditch season in return for an offer of eternal glory descending on one of the seventh years' head. Harry had to close his eyes for a moment as he remembered the "Eternal Glory" he and Cedric shared, and it was only the light squeeze of Hermione's hand in his own that pulled him out of that horrible memory. He glanced around the room, eyes settling on Cedric Diggory, who was paying close attention to the announcement. _"Not this time, Cedric. If I have anything to say about this, you're going to be an old man telling your grandchildren about the Triwizard tournament and how stupid it was to get involved in that thing. Not they they'll listen any better than we do."_ Harry's thoughts were interrupted by Ron leaning over to whisper to him.

"Harry! Eternal glory and all those galleons! Think we can get the twins to help us past the age line? Harry shook his head while Hermione looked at Ron like he had just a second head.

"Mate, there is absolutely no way on this earth that I am going to try to get myself killed for money I don't need and fame I don't want. In fact.." Harry had an idea that might just help him out with his first friend in the coming days. "I swear right now on my magic that I am not going to attempt in any way to enter this damned tournament, and I am not going to encourage or help anyone who tries to enter me." The portion of the table that was listening had mixed reactions. Hermione kept her face looking calm while she squeezed Harry's hand tightly under the table, Neville and Casey both simply nodded in understanding, Ron looked scandalized.

"Mate! Fame, Glory, Money! Why would you just take yourself out of it like that?" His face was turning red from the emotion, but Harry tried to explain as patiently as he could.

"Ron, I don't want what this tournament offers, and people have died competing in this thing. I get enough of that already, why would I try to go look for it? Seriously, all I want to do is cheer on whoever the Champion is, and have a quiet school year." _"And take out a few horcruxes, see how close I can get to killing off Riddle, bond with my other soul mate, and make Hermione's fantasy about 'kinky sex in the library' a reality." _Harry thought to himself. _"But still, isn't any sex in the library a little bit kinky? What is she going to want to do, get spanked with a copy of 'Arithmancy for the Mentally Incapacitated' or something? Do it on the main table in the middle of the day with nothing but a 'notice me not' charm over us? Guess we'll find out when the time comes…"_ Harry shook his head clear of his thoughts, and looked around to see Hermione's eyebrow slightly arched, and Casey's mouth split into a wide grin. _"Great. Hermione is wondering which sex act we have planned I'm thinking about, and Casey's figured out I'm thinking about shagging Hermione, and oh Hell, soul mates and Angels are going to be the death of me."_ Features rapidly composed, Harry returned his attention to Ron.

"Mate, if you want to try for it, good on you, but I swore it and meant it, there is no way I will be willingly involved in this tournament. If I can do it, I intend to have a nice quiet year for a change." Ron looked perplexed.

"If that's the way you feel Harry, I suppose… hey, can I borrow your invisibility cloak?" Harry shook his head with a smile.

"If you want to try, sure. Just don't ask me to help beyond that." And with those words Harry noted that the announcements were ending, and students were beginning to rise from their tables to go their rooms. Harry and his group rose as well, with Hermione sidling casually between Harry and Casey with a smile on her face, and words that were designed to strike terror into the heart of all men. "Casey, Harry, when we get back to the common room, we need to talk, don't you agree?" Both young men visibly gulped, while Ron and Neville laughed. "Better you than me, mate!" Ron crowed as they made their way out of the Great Hall, and towards the Griffindor tower.


End file.
